Dionysus pressed a grape between his fingers and watched the juice run down his palm. The skin split easily, releasing the sweet smell of summer fruit. He stood in the center of the Ampelos Atrium, surrounded by rows of ancient vines that twisted up marble columns. For months he had studied fermentation, tested different vessels, and tracked each vintage's progress. But something was still missing. His wines tasted good, even excellent, but not perfect. Not divine. He wiped his hand on his purple toga and looked out at the vineyard. Somewhere in these grapes was the secret he needed. He would find it, no matter how long it took. The Ampelos Atrium stretched out before him like a kingdom of green and gold. Waterfalls cascaded down the golden columns, their spray catching the light. The vines grew thick here, heavy with clusters of purple grapes. This place would be his workshop, his testing ground. He walked between the rows, touching the leaves, feeling the weight of the fruit. Everything he needed to craft the perfect vintage lived within these walls. He carried a basket of grapes to the large glass vessel that waited near the gazebo. Gold designs covered the container, swirling in patterns that caught his eye. The vessel was made for pressing grapes, for turning fruit into juice. He dumped the basket in and began crushing them with a wooden paddle. The juice pooled at the bottom, dark and rich. Each batch taught him something new about timing, about temperature, about patience. Water would be needed too, for cleaning the equipment and mixing at certain stages. Dionysus made his way down the stone steps that led underground. The Great Gilded Underground Aquifer spread out below, its walls covered in golden patterns that gleamed in the torchlight. Fresh water ran through channels carved into the rock. He filled a clay jug and carried it back up to the vineyard. The pieces were coming together. The perfect space. The right tools. Now came the real work of learning what the grapes had to teach him.